Aldric lifted Morwenna from the bath with careful, steady hands.
Water dripped from her small body, striking the stone floor with an almost unnatural loudness. She was lighter than he had expected, far lighter than she had been when he carried her out of her first bath two years earlier.
Her head rested heavily against his shoulder, her eyes still closed and her breathing slow and even. He walked toward the door, and the family silently stepped aside to let him pass. No one seemed able to find the words to speak.
The corridor outside the ritual chamber was cold. The torches burned low, casting long, flickering shadows across the rough bedrock walls. Aldric's footsteps echoed through the passage, but he never looked back.
The nearest washroom was a small room reserved for the ritual attendants. It had a simple stone basin and running water. Celestine was already waiting there, having slipped out of the chamber ahead of them.
"Set her down," she said.
Aldric carefully laid Morwenna on the stone table. Its surface was cold, but the girl didn't shiver. Her body had finally stopped trembling.
Celestine turned the taps, letting warm, clean water flow into the basin. Thin wisps of steam rose into the air, carrying a faint lavender scent. She dipped a cloth into the water and began gently washing her granddaughter's face.
The blood came away easily. It had dried to a dark red around her eyes, nose, and ears. The ritual fire had burned away impurities through every opening, and Celestine carefully wiped each one clean. The faint scent of iron lingered for a moment before the water washed it away.
"There's no damage to her eyes or skin," Celestine observed.
She continued washing Morwenna's arms, chest, and legs. The water in the basin gradually turned pale pink. Celestine emptied it and added fresh water whenever necessary, while Aldric stood by the door, watching her work. Her hands remained steady as she methodically cleaned away the traces of the past seven hours.
When she finally finished, Celestine stepped back to examine her granddaughter.
Morwenna's hair had turned the color of midnight, with several pure-white sections still running through the dark strands. They framed her face like pale fire against the darkness. Celestine gently wiped away the last traces of blood beneath her lashes.
Her right eye remained closed, but its color was already clear in their memories: a deep, velvet red with the brilliance of fresh blood. Her left eye held the cold, polished gleam of frost.
Dark rings surrounded both irises, standing out sharply against their new colors. Her skin had also taken on a different quality. It was no longer pale in the way it had been when she was ill, but carried a soft, almost luminous clarity.
The High Elf lineage had settled into her body, refining her posture and smoothing the lines of her jaw. Even the atmosphere around her seemed different. The Veela magic no longer spread outward in waves.
Instead, it rested quietly within her, creating a subtle pull that made the room feel strangely still whenever she breathed. People might not understand why they wanted to look at her, but they would find it difficult to turn away.
Celestine dried her with a clean cloth, taking care not to disturb her.
Luelle and Saoirse brought over some soft cotton clothes. Saoirse gently supported Morwenna's head while Luelle slipped the gray shirt over it. Their movements were practiced and quiet, and they took care not to wake her.
Once the shirt was in place, Saoirse smoothed the fabric over Morwenna's shoulder. Her hand lingered there for a moment.
"She looks different," she said quietly.
"She is different," Luelle replied.
Jack carried Morwenna through the empty halls. The portraits watched them pass without a word. When they reached the nursery, the door was already open, and a fresh fire was burning low in the hearth.
Cinder was waiting at the foot of the bed, his ears flattened and his eyes fixed on the doorway. Jack carefully laid Morwenna down. Her green snake was waiting on the pillow, while Cinder climbed onto the bed and settled against her feet. Jane pulled the quilt over them both.
Roxane entered and approached the bedside. She gently placed her hands over Morwenna's chest, throat, and forehead. Closing her eyes, she followed the flow of magic through the girl's body.
"No fractures," she said quietly. "Her soul has anchored, and the magic has woven itself into her body."
She stepped away from the bed.
"She will sleep for a long time."
Jack took the chair beside the window, while Jane sat on the edge of the mattress. One by one, the others left the room. Their footsteps gradually faded down the corridor, and the door finally clicked shut.
The nursery settled into a deep, quiet stillness.
. . .
The light coming through the nursery window was still pale and faint when Roxane opened the door the following morning.
The fireplace hadn't been lit yet. Jane was still sitting in the chair beside the window, her head tilted back and her eyes closed. Jack was on the floor with his back against the wall and his legs stretched out in front of him. It was clear that neither of them had managed to sleep.
Roxane crossed the room and placed a hand on Jane's shoulder.
"Go downstairs," she said. "You will be no good to her if you collapse."
Jane opened her eyes. The edges were red from exhaustion.
"I can't leave her."
"The house-elves will watch over her," Roxane insisted. "You need to rest. You will be no good to her if you collapse."
She glanced toward the bed before adding, "She is breathing, and she will continue to breathe. Go."
. . .
The morning room was cold and gray. The fireplace hadn't been lit, and although its windows faced east, the sun was still low in the sky. Its light fell across the room without bringing much warmth.
May should have been warmer, but the manor always seemed to hold on to winter longer than the world outside.
Roxane stood at the head of the table in her rumpled indigo robes. She looked just as exhausted as everyone else.
"Eat," she said firmly.
No one moved.
"You can't function without food. She will sleep for days, and you won't be able to help her if you collapse."
Jane picked up her fork but put it down again almost immediately. Roxane took her seat and reached for a piece of bread, breaking it in half with a sharp crack.
"Eat," she repeated.
Jack reached for his cup and discovered that his tea had gone cold. He drank it anyway. Slowly, the others began to follow. They had little appetite, but they made themselves eat.
For a while, the only sounds in the room were forks touching porcelain and the occasional movement of a cup.
Then Roxane put down her bread.
"Did the Keith library have any records of something like this?" she asked. "A child dying and then coming back to life?"
Aldric looked up from his plate.
"No," he replied. "This is the first time I have ever heard of anything like it happening."
"The Hive has no records either," Roxane added. "Not for Alberich or any of the other lineages."
Saoirse placed her cup on the table.
"The cold was Glacialis."
"And the darkness was Vacui," Luelle murmured.
"The shadows came from the Lethifold," Seraphina added.
Raphaël leaned back slightly in his chair. "And then there were the three fires."
"Her own," Jack said, tapping his fingers against the table. "The Veela fire and the Keith fire."
Jane slowly traced the rim of her cup.
"The stars were Astra Gelida. When they appeared..." Her voice softened. "She began breathing again."
"The five snakes that emerged from nowhere," Aldric said. "They must have been her Basilisk lineage."
Celestine set down her fork.
"The Elder Dragon and the High Elf manifested as well."
Raphaël turned toward his sister.
"And the last one, the frost that entered her left eye. That was her own cold."
The table fell silent once more.
After a moment, Aldric looked back at Roxane.
"The other three children who survived the ritual before her. Did they experience anything similar?"
Roxane shook her head, her green eyes heavy with exhaustion.
"No. Each of the three displayed different results, and the order in which their lineages manifested was different too. The process is unique to every child."
Jane placed both hands flat on the table.
"So what do we do next, Grand-mère?"
Roxane picked up her tea and held the warm cup between both hands.
"Nothing. We let her rest, just as we did before."
Silence settled over the table again. Then Saoirse reached for the bread and tore off a piece.
"The eggs are cold," she remarked.
Luelle smiled. It was a small gesture, but it was enough to ease the tension that had filled the room.
Raphaël poured himself another cup of tea. Viviane settled back in her chair, and Elara finally relaxed her tightly clasped hands.
They began talking about ordinary things instead. The gardens, the orchard blossoms, and the house-elves who would need some rest after everything they had done.
They continued chatting as the sun climbed higher. The light slowly changed from gray to gold, spreading across the morning room. They ate cold food and drank cold tea, but no one seemed to mind anymore.
No one mentioned the fire going out.
And no one spoke of the silence that had followed.
===
There's image below